Dark Glamour
by RiddleMeThis22
Summary: As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory and the thuggish gravitating towards a leader... TMR/EV EP/TS
1. See the moon slink down in the sky,

**Pairings: Tom Riddle/Emmeline Vance Eileen Prince/Tobias Snape**

**Rated T for mild language, sexual themes **

**Not alternate universe, I do my best to adhere to canon**

**Takes place September 1st, 1943 - June 13th, 1944, Tom Marvolo Riddle's 6th Year at Hogwarts, ends the day Moaning Myrtle dies.**

_"As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory and the thuggish gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty… … Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets..."_ Albus Dumbledore, "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince", Chapter 17, _A Sluggish Memory_ page 361-362 (Hardcover)

_*********************************************_

Emmeline Vance was always the first student on the Hogwarts Express. Her parents were high-ranking ministry officials working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and much too busy to take time off to wait for the train. Thus, for the sixth year in a row, Emmeline had been lovingly but hurriedly deposited at the station at a groggy 6am. Emmeline, however, was quite awake, and being used to her parents inconveniently tight schedule had developed a ceremonial Pre-Hogwarts routine. At the entrance to the station slept a homeless Muggle, curled around a scratched violin with his head pressed into his hat, his ear keeping watch over the meager change that coated the bottom like rust. He looked up at the nonexistent sound of Emmeline's small feet with the hopeful look of a dog expecting a bone. The Muggle stood straight before her, swinging the instrument to his grizzled chin with a grace disproportionate to his tattered clothes and crooked teeth. The concerto started softly, barely rising above the sticky empty buzz of the train station. The melody seemed to play with the station's dank and cold attempt to depress, teasing out the irony of the excited voices and anxious businessmen soon to crowd the platforms. To Emmeline, listening to Mozart was like hearing a familiar tune she'd long forgotten. It gave her a calm sense of closure: the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts and the beginning of her sixth, promising passionate crescendos, stark syncopations and delicate harmonies intertwined in the drumbeat of her heart. Emmeline clapped enthusiastically at the end, and the Muggle took an exaggerated bow, basking in her praise. Emmeline drew a water bottle from her messenger bag and set it down beside the Muggle, who carefully placed his violin between his crossed legs before darting out to grasp the precious liquid. Emmeline's first year at Hogwarts, she had been so nervous she had curled into a ball and cried beside the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ . Without a word the homeless Muggle had approached her and played her a lament so haunting it had frozen the tears on her cheeks, followed by an abrupt playful tune so surprising she'd laughed out loud. After the Muggle's performance, she realized she had no Muggle money to reward his efforts, and had given him the only suitable thing in her bag: an anti-anxiety potion her parents had sent her to help her make friends on the train. It had become a yearly tradition for Emmeline to brew the Muggle a potion every summer. It sometimes took her the entire summer, as did the diluted bottled glory she handed him now.

As the morning rush began, Emmeline watched the sluggish Muggle business men in their airtight suits and prim briefcases head to work, walking pathways so worn they would not notice hundreds of oddly dressed wizards and witches pour through the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. Emmeline liked to think that for one day of the year, she was also a part of this strange Muggle ritual. That first year they had looked at her strangely, and a few had even stopped to ask if she needed assistance finding her parents. Now she was an annual anomaly, and their eyes didn't even pause on her slight figure as they rushed by. She felt as invisible as if she'd used magic.

As the hours wore on, Emmeline passed through the gate to Platform 9 ¾, where the train would arrive at 9am sharp. With great effort, Emmeline dragged her heavy trunk up the steps and into the train, banging her elbow on the narrow entrance and cursing loudly. The only good thing about being the first student on the train was the privacy of struggling with her trunk. At 16, Emmeline's body seemed never to have realized her age, and remained a short 5'3 and painfully skinny. Emmeline hated having to reach and jump to fit her trunk over her compartment, hated the way her weak arms stung after the ordeal. She went ahead and changed into her school uniform, rather shocked but secretly pleased it had grown uncomfortably tight around her chest over the summer. Emmeline chose the compartment closest to the front of the train, the same compartment she sat in every year.

When wizarding families gathered, they tended to show off and Platform 9 ¾ was no exception. Children were rounded up from their Quidditch pitches and scrubbed pink. Pure gold cauldrons sat on top of the latest trunk designs, often topped with ridiculously priced endangered species of owl. School robes were enchanted to twinkle like the night sky, and moving brightly-colored hair clips skittered across little girls' unhappily tamed hair. There was a lot of pressure to sit with the right people on the train, hear the summer's gossip first, and of course, criticize one another's outfits. It was also one of the only points in their Hogwarts education where it was easy to see who'd grown up in the wizarding world and who hadn't. Emmeline hoped Muggleborns never felt as out of place as they must on Platform 9 ¾ , staring wide-eyed at the crème de la crème of wizarding society. The Platform was also a ready-made opportunity for elaborate shows of family unity. Children were often dropped off by the entirety of their extended family, kissed on the cheek by an assembly line of concerned Aunts, Uncles, and Grandparents. It was one of the worst faux pas for parents not to accompany their children to the Platform, and Emmeline's parents committed it every year, so she understood his desire to appear as if he didn't ride the train at all. Besides, her annoyance at missing the whole Platform experience was nullified by the certain dark glamour she enjoyed by being able to arrive at Hogwarts earlier than everyone else, especially in his company.

Settling down to wait, Emmeline signed her name in the air with her wand in rounded clear print. She loved word games and her new favorite pastime was rearranging the letters of her name. She often couldn't use all the letters, but she discovered new combinations every day. After spelling a disappointing 'maim' and 'evil', she discovered her name concealed the word 'eminence' right as he strode through the gate.

He looked different than he had at the end of fifth year. He was taller, Emmeline was sure of it, and his skin seemed even paler than normal next to her summer tan. No matter how tall he grew, he somehow skipped the awkward coltish stance that plagued others his age and walked with a powerful sense of purpose.

"I don't understand how you always beat me to the train, Emmeline." He didn't wonder which compartment she had chosen, simply walked straight to it and calmly slid the door open with a grace that somehow reminded her of the homeless violinist.

"I don't understand why it annoys you so much." Emmeline replied in the same tone, not taking her eyes from rearranging her name.

He patiently ignored this, "Did I write you that I'd made Prefect this year, or did you guess?" He smiled at her, lifting his trunk to fit next to hers effortlessly. Emmeline noticed the band of muscled stomach he exposed as he reached up and closed the storage compartment.

"Oh come now, who else would it go to?" she teased, "I don't believe you wrote me this summer at all." He never wrote anyone. Emmeline didn't even think he owned an owl.

He chuckled wryly, "One of these years I will beat you to this train and you will have to come to me instead of the other way around." He sat down across from her and stretched his overgrown form across the seat.

Emmeline snorted, "Just like one of these years you'll actually write me over the summer?" Every summer she was slightly disappointed he didn't owl her, but she knew she wasn't supposed to ask questions about his summer holiday, and now he was sure to be angry.

"Perhaps." he answered testily, "Have you read your text books for this year? I'm really excited for Potions, we get to brew a nightmare potion that inflicts people's worst fears on them for weeks! Do you think you if you combined some aspects of the memory charm you could control the content of the nightmares? We should do research!" Emmeline was never sure if the glint in his almost-black eyes was due to the prospect of interesting research or inflicting a practical joke, but she laughed at his boyish eagerness.

"Are you seriously going to put me to work before we've even watched the Sorting?" she complained affectionately. "What exactly did you have in mind, giving me nightmares about seeing Professor Slughorn in his underpants for months?" He outright laughed at this, sitting up to look her for the first time.

"Your boobs got bigger this summer." He said plainly, smirking at her chest.

"Excuse me?!" Emmeline spat in mock indignation, "It took you this long to notice?!" He doubled over in laughter, and Emmeline playfully pushed him over, causing him to fall over onto the floor of the car. He remerged next to Emmeline, asking pointedly,

"What game are you playing with your name over here?" he frowned as she flicked the letters around to spell 'cave'.

"I'm seeing how many words I can make with the letters in my name. The trick is how your name balances vowels and consonants, it's actually really interesting how many words you can make out of seemingly small amounts of letters." He didn't look surprised; he'd caught her trying to invent a magical version of scrabble after finals last year.

"Do mine!" he demanded, drawing out his wand to spell his own name.

Emmeline laughed immediately, "You can spell 'lord' with your name! How fitting!"

He didn't smile. "Lord what?" he leaned in interestedly, a strange glint appearing in his eyes.

Emmeline rolled her eyes. "Um… Lord Dim. Does that appease you, you vain thing?" She playfully cocked her eyebrow at him. He wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Here, the problem is you've run out of letters, add my middle name." He hurriedly waved another word into existence.

"Marvolo is your middle name?" Emmeline said with a surprised jump.

"It was my grandfather's name," Tom intoned impatiently. "Why?"

"It's a wizard name, is all." Emmeline tried to save Tom from the insult, but one look at his face and she knew he hadn't taken offense. He looked, not strange exactly but inappropriately interested. Emmeline hurriedly flicked the letters of his name around.

She hooted with laughter, "Even better! Oh, it's not fair, I've been working towards a decent phrase with my name all summer, yours is easy!" He wasn't laughing. ""I am Lord Morte'! Lord of Death! Pretty neat, huh?" Emmeline sat back, proud of herself, but he frowned.

"You didn't use all the letters. I don't call that an accomplishment." Now Emmeline frowned.

"Well it's hard! And that was only my first try! You think you can do better?" Emmeline knew the minute she spoke it had been a mistake to dare him to do anything. He smirked at her frustration.

"I already have. 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Sounds much more sinister, don't you think?"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Emmeline howled with laughter. "Voldemort? It sounds like a deformed mushroom, haha!" He looked dangerously affronted at her answer, but at that moment the train jerked into motion and he broke into a cavalier smile.

"Emmeline, are you attempting to insult my considerable brilliance?" He put on a fake pompous voice, "I heard Minnie McGonagall is Head Girl this year, do you think she'll forgive us for missing the Prefect meeting?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll get over it eventually. Besides, we're second-year Prefects and the first meeting is always orientation stuff." They hadn't gone to their very first Prefect meeting either. Emmeline had no doubt that in fact her good friend Minnie McGonagall would give her hell about having to run her first Prefect meeting without ANY Slytherin representation.

"What about our new Head Boy, the infamous Alastor Moody? Will he mind you missing the meeting?" Tom's voice was carefully neutral.

"Oh, Alastor and I broke up back in June. He was so busy doing that internship in the Auror Office we couldn't keep it going." That was the story they agreed on, anyway.

"Alas, he's such an amusing boy," Tom joked. "Are you still friends or will we be deprived of his company for a while?" Tom spoke with the light curious tone of everyone who asked about her breakup with Alastor Moody, but Tom wasn't asking after her emotional health. Alastor's parents were the Aurors leading the hunt for the dark wizard Grindelwald, and discretion wasn't one of Alastor's virtues. Tom had enjoyed being privy to Alastor's inside news.

"I'm afraid I won't be seeing much of him this year. He'll be busy with his Head Boy duties and his NEWTS." Emmeline answered evasively, "By the way, do mind me asking about your OWLS?" She tried not to betray how curious she was. Tom was easily capable of achieving straight O's, but that didn't mean he _wanted_ to.

"All my grades were O's," He laughed as if it didn't bother him. "How'd you do?"

"I failed Arithmancy, scraped by with an A in Ancient Runes, and everything else went very well." Emmeline smiled. "So what does your schedule look like?"

"The usual, Potions, DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Ancient Runes and Divination." He stopped talking rather suddenly as the trolley rolled passed without stopping to ask them if they'd like anything. Emmeline's stomach grumbled. She couldn't wait for the feast.

"We're a little different this year." The thought made her sad. "I dropped Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and I'm taking Muggle Studies." He winced at the last class.

"I don't know why you insist on taking Muggle Studies, it's bad enough we're required to for First Year!" Tom rolled his eyes. It was an ancient argument between them. Tom hated the Muggle Immersion program, which required Purebloods to take Muggle Studies their First Year at Hogwarts and Muggleborns to take a Wizard Immersion class the same amount of time. Half-bloods had it easy, if they could test out of both classes they could get a free period their first year. Emmeline was the only Pureblood Slytherin to continue Muggle Studies by choice.

"It's not so bad once you get to the advanced classes. But I know I won't talk you into anything, you're so pig-headed about it! What about you? Copping out and taking Divination?" Emmeline hated Divination.

"You don't believe in destiny, Emmeline?" Tom asked, looking at her with intense interest.

"What does destiny have to do with Divination?" Emmeline frowned, confused.

"The theory on Divination is that you're finding how destiny is shaping your life and therefore predicting future decisions. A very vital skill, don't you think?" Tom smiled to show he was teasing.

"I don't believe destiny is that clear-cut. If you're meant for some higher purpose, it will find you naturally and it's a waste of time sticking your nose in teacups and staring at the sky." Emmeline leaned against the window of the train, curling her legs underneath her like a cat.

"But Emmeline!" Tom jumped up from his seat and began pacing the length of the car, "What if you know you're meant for something that _should_ be written in the stars?" His eyes pleaded for understanding.

"Tom, _everyone_ sees success in their future in Divination! Why do you think people study it? People don't want to _know_ the real future! They just want happy reassurances of future success and happiness. I thought you were above such self-esteem problems." Emmeline challenged.

"You don't understand." Tom sat back down, slightly deflated, "I feel it in my _blood. _I'm meant for something _special_." Tom said with the familiarity of a mantra. Emmeline felt herself get angry.

"You think being a Pureblood entitles you to greatness?" Emmeline's voice dripped contempt, "How do you figure, Tom? Look at Russell Crabbe! Woefully untalented, and the purest blood you can imagine! And what about the Black family? Inbreeding to the point of insanity and squibs! Is that what entitles you to greatness?"

"You don't understand, Emmeline." Tom said quietly, "Wizard blood is dominant. That's why Half-Bloods and Muggleborns _exist_! If wizards are evolved forms of Muggles, Pureblood wizards naturally have more magical talent! Muggles are _flawed! _Their lifestyle revolves around physical perfection and economic trickery! They are naturally dishonest and vindictive people! If you can even _call _them people! So yes, my pure blood _does _entitle me to… SOMETHING!" Tom yelled, gesticulating with his long fingered hands and glaring at Emmeline.

"Tom, we never had enough Pureblood families to support growth. Without Muggles, we would have died out years ago. I'm sorry to disagree, but it's been _proven, _Tom, that wizard or Muggle ancestry has nothing to do with magical talent. Intelligent Muggles make talented wizards, just has stupid Purebloods rarely have an abundance of talent." Emmeline said gently, "And Muggles do their best. Have you heard their music? Seen their art? It seems to me they have an obsession with beauty, which is something we wizards overlook too often." Tom had his head in his hands, showing no sign of having heard Emmeline at all.

"Have you seen the way they torture each other? Persecute what they're afraid of? You take Muggle Studies. You must know something of the wars they wage! Wizards have the capability to inflict unimaginable pain and cruelty. But we exercise control. We attack only when other flawed species attack first." Tom fought to keep his voice under control. Emmeline's heart was beating a mile a minute. Tom never looked vulnerable, but he was almost shaking with anger, and Emmeline doubted his control. He looked about ready to let something slip.

Emmeline took a deep breath. "Tom, were you raised by Muggles?" Most people thought Tom came from an ancient Pureblood line financially ruined, explaining his absence from wizard society as well as his ill-disguised poverty. Emmeline was one of the few who suspected he was raised completely by Muggles. He simply knew too much about them, dressed too expertly, and knew very little of wizarding slang and customs.

"Where did you hear that?" Tom whispered dangerously. Emmeline gulped, and hoped he wouldn't notice her shivering with fear. Why was she afraid? Surely Tom wouldn't hurt her? If he wouldn't reveal the answer, he couldn't hold a grudge about the question.

"Do you think your absence from wizarding society isn't noticed? People speculate. It was harmless, I assure you." Emmeline hugged her knees closer.

In the blink of an eye Tom launched himself across the compartment and picked Emmeline up by her shoulders as if she were a ragdoll. "I believe I asked _where_ you heard I was raised by Muggles?" he spat the word, attempting to shake an answer out of her. Emmeline was breathing so fast she could barely think, and she could feel his fingers beginning to bruise. Before she could compose any kind of answer, Tom lifted her clear off the seat and slammed her against the wall, growling in frustration.

"TELL THE TRUTH!!" He was breathing hard and his muscles were standing out on his arms, but he was too lost in his fury to notice. "Who spouts such LIES?" His face was about an inch from hers. In a split second Emmeline realized that not only was Tom furious, he was terrified. She had her answer.

"I.. I… I.. didn't hear it." She stuttered, "I thought you might have been raised by Muggles. Just me. I never said anything to anybody! Tom, you know I don't talk about you!" Emmeline opened her eyes wide, praying he would believe her.

Emmeline suddenly noticed she could feel the exact shape of his body in this position. Tom seemed to notice the same thing, and tension in the air changed as he shifted, still pinning her against the wall. Emmeline could feel his heart beating in time with hers.

"You would do well to keep such theories to yourself," He said roughly, "Just because my family may not have money doesn't suggest our blood isn't pure." His fingers eased from a grip to a kind of caress. So Tom wanted people to believe he came from an ancient line down on their luck. At the moment, Emmeline didn't care.

"Of course, my lord." She whispered mockingly, bringing up his silly anagram from their last argument. He froze, pressing her more firmly against the wall and moving his hands to her face. He looked like he might say something, but he couldn't seem to form the words. Emmeline could feel a blush flower on her cheeks. He brought his head down to hers wonderingly, running his thumbs over the color in her cheeks.

_Oh Merlin, _Emmeline thought suddenly, _he's going to kiss me! _This was NOT how she had imagined their first kiss! His head dropped and his eyes flickered shut as Emmeline frantically toyed with the idea of pushing him away. Right before his lips touched hers the train lurched to a halt, sending them both tumbling over in a frenzied pile of fallen wands and sharp elbows. Before Emmeline could reorient herself, Tom jumped to his feet, grabbed her wrist, and bolted for the door at a dead run.

**Author's Note:**

As fellow authors, I'm sure you all know the value of a good review :) I update every week. I should be pretty regular, as I'm quite a few chapters ahead and am not writing on a week-to-week basis.

Minerva McGonagall is Head Girl in her 6th Year. There are a lot of people in the wrong year. Mistake, I'm aware. Unfortunately, I kept coming across the problem of either needing to include a lot of dialogue and inter-house events that happen outside of class to include all the characters in their correct years, or put my characters in the wrong years so I could interact with them in class. I chose to stick a lot of people in 6th year by default, I hope you can forgive me. I also shamelessly stole names from the Black Family tree to make it sound more authentic. If I hadn't I would have had to invent OC's, me sticking people in the wrong year is technically an attempt to stay within canon.

Rowling herself has made mistakes with the Black and Malfoy family tree, I think Abraxas Malfoy dies when he's 13 having been married and fathering three children or something like that. Regardless, I have retracted the birthdays of many 'official' Black and Malfoy characters to make them, honestly, a more appropriate age than Rowling grants them. The exception is Bellatrix Black. I have no excuse, except for a burning desire to write her character. Technically, although it's unlikely, it is physically possible for her to be born at the date I set for her, 1932. That would make her about 65 during Harry Potter books, but if she was the eldest of the Black sisters and we assume from lack of children that all three married late and are now postmenopausal it's not as far-fetched as it could be.

**IF I EVER FIND PLAGARIZATION THE STORY ENDS BEFORE YOU CAN SAY "QUIDDITCH" **

Disclaimer: I'm just playing. It doesn't belong to me :D The Chapter titles are the lyrics to the song "The Riddle" From the musical The Scarlet Pimpernel, by Frank Wildhorn


	2. Darling, let your fantasies fly,

Frantically trying to fix her robes and her tousled hair, Emmeline tried not to inconvenience Tom as he ran for the thestral-drawn carriages. Emmeline hated this part of their yearly ritual, but she could understand that there was no point in keeping their presence on the train a secret if they were going to be caught in the carriages on the way up to school. Tom practically threw her as he released her wrist in favor of the harness the thestral must have been wearing, working furiously to free it from the carriage. Emmeline tied her shoulder-length dark brown hair back for the ride, finally getting a chance to fix her tangled robes. Tom mounted the invisible creature and wordlessly held out his hand to her. Taking a deep breath, Emmeline grabbed his hand and he swung her up in front of him. Emmeline fought down panic as Tom furiously kicked the thestral into the air.

"I swear, someday they're going to make broom faster than these creatures!" Tom spoke into her hair. Emmeline didn't respond, trying to concentrate on the strange sensation of gripping the mane of a creature she couldn't see. Tom's arms came around her stiff and awkwardly. Emmeline could tell he was holding himself away from her so as not to rekindle the strange dreamlike mood from the train. Emmeline sighed. Tom was obviously going to pretend he had never been a breath away from kissing her. Looking down involuntarily, Emmeline smiled at the little fleet of boats carrying the first-years across the lake.

"Anyone of interest being Sorted this year?" Tom asked. He must have noticed the boats as well.

"Cygnus and Druella Black's oldest daughter, Bellatrix," Emmeline replied absently, watching the castle, both majestic and welcoming, come into view. "also a Prewett boy, I think one of the Bulstrodes, and the younger Lestrange."

"Am I to expect any insanity from inbreeding?" Tom teased, squeezing her slightly. Emmeline laughed.

"Prehaps from the Black girl. Her parents are distantly related about four different ways, and she's been betrothed to Rolf Lestrange since birth who happens to be her second cousin." Rodolphus Lestrange, or Rolf, was one of Tom's close friends. "Orion and Walburga Black were married this summer and they're first cousins." She pointed out smugly. She could feel Tom roll his eyes.

"We're landing. You'd best close your eyes." Tom murmured unnecessarily as the ground swooped towards them and Emmeline bit back a gasp. When she opened them Tom was lifting her down from the thestral's back, again, as if she weighed nothing. Emmeline could see the carriages begin to appear behind them. They were running out of time, and Tom hadn't changed into his robes yet. Emmeline smiled her thanks to him and followed him into the castle. She could tell he was as excited as she was to be coming home to Hogwarts. The minute they entered the castle something inside Tom relaxed. His walk contained a confident jounce as they made their way towards the Great Hall. They were passing by the room containing the frightened First Years when Tom suddenly stopped, waving Emmeline back with and impatient shushing noise.

"…so are you and Rolf dating? Cause he's cheating on you!" Sang an annoying childish voice.

"You leave me ALONE, Lestrange!" A girl's voice answered passionately.

"Awww…. We're practically family and you won't even use my first name?" The first voice taunted. Emmeline and Tom could hear the other First Years whispering nervously. "Come on, don't you want to know who your future husband's cheating on you with?" The girl didn't answer. "She's pretty AND she's Pureblood!" he taunted.

"I DON'T CARE!" came her strangled sob. Tom raised his eyebrow at Emmeline, cocking his head towards the sobbing girl. Emmeline nodded, confirming Tom's suspicion that this was indeed Bellatrix Black.

"You better be nicer to me, Bella. If Rolf breaks the engagement it'll be you and I—" The voice broke off as Tom strode into the room, holding the saucer-wide eyes of 30 First Years. Emmeline stayed hidden, watching from Tom's previous position through the crack in the heavy oak door.

"Rabastan!" Tom said sharply, "I would expect a wizard of your caliber to know how to treat a lady." Rabastan Lestrange swallowed hard. Silence rang out for a minute before Rabastan dared to answer.

"Sorry," He muttered, studying his shoes.

"Very good." Tom sang dangerously. "I suggest you watch which young Slytherins you choose to torment. You wouldn't want to get off to a bad start, now would you?" Rabastan gulped. Bella dashed the tears from her eyes and watched Tom from beneath her heavy dark eyelashes.

"Are you going to tell my brother?" Rabastan challenged. Tom studied Rabastan.

"I think I can be merciful this once..," Tom adopted a stern look. "But any complaints from our pretty little Bella and you'll have more to worry about than your brother's displeasure." Bella blushed a pretty pink at that. Turning to the rest of the star struck first years, Tom raised his arms genially and said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. For those of you lucky enough to be placed in Slytherin, I'll see you very soon." Tom looked like he would've said more, but at that moment Professor Dumbledore stepped into the room, watching Tom with a less than cordial smile.

"How very true, Tom." Professor Dumbledore said casually. Emmeline held her breath, pressing herself behind the castle wall. Professor Dumbledore and Tom were known to not get along.

"I was especially thrilled to see you've signed up to tutor First Years for the first week of class." Dumbledore said pleasantly. Tom's smile became forced and Emmeline let out an involuntary gasp. Tom had done no such thing, but there was no way First Years could know that. At least Dumbledore's punishment didn't include a blow to Tom's authority.

"As a Prefect, I try to make First Years a priority." Tom said ironically, inclining his head to Dumbledore.

"As you should. Now I suggest you get yourself off to the Great Hall. As you can see, the Sorting should've already begun." Tom didn't need telling twice, striding quickly towards Emmeline, still hidden. Tom stormed through the door without pausing to see if Emmeline was following.

"Ideal punishment, don't you think?" Tom remarked in a calm way that contrasted with his fast walk and tight-lipped expression. Emmeline had to skip to keep up.

"I have to say, Tom, I didn't know you were so concerned with the wellbeing of First Years!"Emmeline remarked smugly.

"Well," Tom said without a hint of irony, "Allow me to surprise you." With that, they entered the Great Hall, and Tom hurried from Emmeline's side like they hadn't arrived together. Emmeline sighed. Of course, people couldn't know that she and Tom rode the train together, but as they both claimed to arrive earlier than the train, wouldn't it make sense that as fellow Slytherins, they would spend the extra time catching up and maybe walk to the feast together? Maybe she didn't have enough friends to merit Tom eating with her. Maybe Tom didn't like the fact that she had friends in other houses. Maybe… Oh what's the use? Emmeline thought bitterly. She hated the opening Feast because the students had to sit at their house tables. Usually, there was comfortable motley of house colors at every table, and conversation was much livelier when interspersed with students from all different houses. Eating exclusively with Slytherins was an unnerving experience, knowing how carefully they watched for weakness. Gritting her teeth, Emmeline hurried in with the last of the stragglers and headed toward the Slytherin table. Smiling slightly, she sat down next to one of her favorite people in the world, Eileen Prince.

"Emmeline, nice to see you again," Eileen said, interrupting Agnes Avery to greet her with a secretive smile. Seeing Eileen wasn't much of a reunion, as they visited frequently over the summer. Eileen gestured for Agnes to continue, "I believe Agnes was recommending we all sleep with high-ranking ministry officials to secure ourselves Internships for next summer." The other Slytherins sniggered quietly into their napkins while Agnes gave Eileen a cold smile.

"Only those of us who aspire to more do more than play Gobstones all our lives, Eileen." Agnes twirled one of her perfect blonde ringlets between her manicured fingers and inclined her head to Emmeline. "Even Emmeline plays that game. Tell me, do you get to keep your internship at the International Relations Department even though Alastor no longer tells you the time of day?" Emmeline smiled indulgently,

"Of course. You see, Agnes, when you actually _apply_ for internships, whether or not you put out doesn't factor into your acceptance. It's a shame there wasn't an OWL in sexual positions, getting an 'O' in something might have helped with your applications." Eileen erupted into giggles beside her. Agnes looked like she wanted to retort, but Headmaster Dippet had just called for silence and summoned a group of First Years forward for the Sorting.

Emmeline saw that Rabastan Lestrange had moved from right behind Bellatrix Black to the end of the line, and was frantically searching the Slytherin table for his brother Rolf. Emmeline studied Bellatrix worriedly. The girl had cried so easily at Rabastan's teasing she wondered whether the girl had what it took to survive in Slytherin, and the poor thing had a lot of family pressure to contend with. But then again, Bellatrix had the unfortunate affliction of early puberty. She hardly looked 11 years old when she stood next to all of the other first years. She was the tallest girl up there, with curvy wide hips that looked like belonged on a 16 year old and perky little breasts all the prepubescent boys pretended they weren't staring at. With her wide face and heavy lidded bedroom eyes, the girl was bound to be the most beautiful thing Hogwarts had ever seen, given a few years to grow into herself. This was one engagement Rolf Lestrange most certainly wouldn't be breaking.

"Black, Bellatrix!" cried Professor Dumbledore, as she stepped forward to place the Sorting Hat over her ears.

"My, what a pretty little duckling!" Eileen whispered to Emmeline. "She could steal Agnes's internship right out from under her, wouldn't you say?"

"SLYTHERIN!" came the Sorting Hat's pronouncement, and Emmeline cheered loudly for the first new Slytherin, and motioned for Eileen to move down.

"Eileen, she's a Black, let's be nice and look after her." Eileen raised her bushy dark eyebrows but complacently moved down. Emmeline beckoned to Bellatrix encouragingly, and the girl gratefully sat down next to Emmeline.

"Hi… I guess you heard I'm Bella Black…" the child-woman introduced quietly. Emmeline smiled encouragingly.

"Emmeline Vance, I'm one of Slytherin's Prefects," She shook Bella's hand firmly, "This is Eileen Prince, welcome to Slytherin." Eileen waved at Bella absentmindedly.

Bella's head jerked up as Rabastan Lestrange was sorted into Slytherin, and she gave him a withering glare of disgust and he loped down happily to meet his brother. The Sorting contained no surprises this year, and Headmaster Dippet cleared his throat for his start of term speech. The school tried to disguise a collective groan.

"I'm very happy to welcome all of you to another year at Hogwarts!" he wheezed tiredly, "Every year, Hogwarts turns out excellent wizards and witches, and I especially want to congratulate our graduating Seventh Years and our new First Years, who should look to the older students as a guide…" Professor Dippet tended to be long winded and Emmeline felt her attention sliding down to where Tom was holding court at end of the table. He was deep in conversation with Mulciber, inclining his ear down to Mulciber even though Mulciber was taller than Tom. Her attention shifted to a pair of hurt black eyes staring at her from all the way over at the Gryffindor table. Alastor Moody gave her a small smile when she caught him looking, and she returned it rather hesitantly. Eileen nudged her impatiently as the table before them suddenly filled with food and the Great Hall erupted in sound. Watching Agnes moan about calories and take a ridiculously small amount of salad, Emmeline loaded up her plate with pot roast and mashed potatoes. She hadn't grown an inch or gained weight in years, though she felt she paid for it with her small stature and lack of curves. Beside her, Bella hadn't touched her food. She was busy staring down at the end of the table. The poor girl was probably scared stiff of Rolf Lestrange, Emmeline thought sympathetically. She passed the mashed potatoes to Bella gently, but Bella seemed incapable of eating. Her face was flushed and her big dark eyes were wide. Ignoring the potatoes, Bella turned to Emmeline and pointed not at Rolf, but straight at Tom and asked breathlessly,

"Who _is _that??" Emmeline almost laughed.

"That's Tom Riddle, the other Slytherin Prefect." Emmeline saw Bella's brow furrow with the same question every Pureblood wizard wondered upon hearing Tom's name. There were no Riddles anywhere in the wizarding community, of that Emmeline was certain.

"Is he from America?" Bella asked curiously. Emmeline shook her head.

"It's best not to ask questions," She advised sagely. "Try the pot roast, Bella you must be starving!" But Bella shook her head impatiently.

"I'm not hungry." Bella didn't say another word or take her eyes off of Tom the entire rest of the feast. Noticing, Eileen leaned over to Emmeline and whispered,

"Hmmm… I think I recognize that look… Every time Slughorn looks at a box of crystallized pineapple.." Emmeline laughed heartily.

"Poor thing, she's 11 and he's 16, he won't even give her a second glance!" Emmeline murmured. Eileen let out a sharp laugh.

"Does he give anyone a second glance?" she asked rhetorically, "I heard a rumor on the train he swings the other way." Emmeline choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Um, yeah, that's a big no." She laughed decisively, "Just because Tom doesn't chase after Agnes like every other bloke around here doesn't mean he's gay."

"I agree with you," Eileen replied, "I think Agnes might have actually started that rumor. Apparently she doesn't handle rejection very well." At this Agnes stopped gossiping with Olive Hornby and turned toward the pair.

"I wouldn't talk shit about me if I were you, Eileen." Agnes said coldly.

"If I were talking about you, I would have said Shagness." Eileen fired back. "Let's go Emmeline, I'm losing brain cells sitting near this one." Glad to miss out on another row between Agnes and Eileen, Emmeline pushed herself away from the table and followed Eileen out of the Great Hall. "Merlin, that girl causes more trouble than Grindelwald." Eileen complained bitterly. Eileen and Agnes couldn't be more different. Where Agnes was pretty, Eileen was unfortunately plain, with a sallow face and a rather long hooked nose. Eileen was sharp-witted and sarcastic, while Agnes was dramatic and cold. Commonly they avoided one another as Agnes attracted a school-wide gaggle of silly, narcissistic beauties and Emmeline and Eileen hung with the brainier students. The opening Feast was one of the few times they were forced to spend time with one another. On their way to the Slytherin common room, a boy stepped out from behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Alastor Moody gave Emmeline such a passionate look of heartbreak she could hardly stand it. Eileen raised a questioning eyebrow in Alastor's direction.

"It's fine, Eileen," Emmeline answered. "I'll see you in our dorm." As Eileen left, Alastor rushed up to Emmeline and took her hand.

"Being apart from you isn't working for me!" He frowned at her slightly, running his hand across her cheek. Emmeline pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Alastor but I stand by my decision to end it." Alastor's face crumpled.

"I'll try not to… say things as often, I promise! It's not on purpose… stuff just comes out!" he pleaded.

"Alastor, I like being known as discreet." Emmeline explained for the millionth time. "Relationships are built on trust, and while I want to trust you, you can't keep a secret to save your life! How can I hold up a relationship with you when a relationship with you is a relationship with the whole school?"

"I'll be better! I'll try harder!" Alastor begged. "Ever since Lysander went undercover to Berlin I've been better, you haven't seen!" Emmeline rolled her eyes.

"Am I supposed to know that Lysander Prewett is undercover in Berlin?" Emmeline asked tiredly.

"Well… no… but I trust you Emmeline!" Alastor reached down and kissed her desperately on the mouth. Emmeline felt her eyes close and her body respond to his gentle, familiar touch. She did miss him. But as Alastor pulled her into a tight hug a small part of Emmeline realized she wanted Tom Riddle more than she'd ever miss Alastor Moody. Emmeline broke away gently.

"I don't want to hurt you more than necessary Alastor," She said quietly, "You're a wonderful boy. Is there anything I can do to make this easier on you?" She hated hurting him, he was so dear. Alastor's face fell.

"The only way I can stop thinking about you is to bury myself in my work." He confessed. "At this rate, I'm going to be the best Auror the wizarding world has ever seen!" He said. Emmeline chuckled.

"There will be other girls, Alastor. Time will make this easier, I'm sure of it." Emmeline reassured.

"I had to try." Alastor ended, squeezing her hand and turning towards Gryffindor Tower. Emmeline sighed. At least that was over with.


	3. Darling, life is cold

Emmeline's breathing was slow and even, but she wasn't asleep. She sat in lotus position doing her morning meditation with her hangings drawn. The other girls were used to this and knew not to disturb her. Suddenly, a bright green firecracker exploded into Emmeline's bed spelling in curly letters 'Good Morning Emmie!" and crackling like popping balloons. Emmeline screamed and tore open her bed hangings, promptly fell out of bed, and lay there to the amusement of her dorm mates, who howled with laughter at Eileen's joke. It took a good minute for Emmeline to reorient her brain to the lights and sounds of her dorm room and remedy the awkward position she'd fallen down in. Still giggling, Eileen offered her a hand, which she gratefully accepted.

"Good morning to you too," Emmeline grumbled. "I hate mornings almost as much as I hate you right now!" With that, Emmeline grabbed her wand, pointed it at Eileen's face and smirked, "Aguamenti!"

Eileen sputtered and gasped as she was drenched with cold water. She and Emmeline glared playfully at each other for a moment, then turned in unison to two of their bunkmates and drenched them with the same spell. A water battle promptly ensued, with the girls screaming and laughing as they slipped in puddles of water and tried to avoid Aguamenti spells. Agnes quickly announced she wasn't playing because her hair potion had just gone in, at which point every Slytherin girl turned and squirted water out their wands at her. Squealing in rage, Agnes chased the perpetrators around until everyone was so wet no one cared if they got squirted anymore and simply sat down, their stomachs aching with laughter. 16 years old they may be, but it was good to know they could still act like children.

A quick shower and a drying spell later Emmeline and Eileen trotted up to the Great Hall, running over to the Gryffindor table to greet two of their closest friends.

"Emmeline. I'm not sure I'm speaking to you yet." Minnie McGonagall greeted her without looking up from her pancakes.

"For missing the first Prefect meeting, breaking Alastor Moody's heart or for attracting the attention of a certain delectable Slytherin Prefect?" Augusta Longbottom observed.

"WHAT?!" Eileen and Minnie said together as they whipped their heads around to stare at the Slytherin table. Emmeline felt her ears turn pink as she fought the urge to turn around.

"Well would you look at that," cackled Eileen with a knowing smile, "Tom Riddle is indeed staring at you, dear."

"I was mad at you for missing the Prefect meeting, but I've forgiven you for that as of now and am forevermore jealous of your romantic prowess." Minnie intoned sarcastically, casting Emmeline an admiring glance. "I'd be careful if I were you. Alastor blabbed the news of your row last night to half the Gryffindor common room and I hear Riddle swings the other way." Emmeline frowned and shook her head.

"Alastor will never learn," She sat down between Minnie and Augusta and perfunctorily kissed each girl's cheek. "It's good to see you as well. I'm very sorry I missed the Prefect meeting Minnie, would you like to catch me up on the year's activities?" Emmeline crooned in a pleading child's tone.

"I told Emmie last night and I'm telling you now, I don't think Tom is gay," Eileen cut in. "Rumor has it Agnes positively threw herself at him after finals last year and Tom responded by sloughing her off on Rolf."

"When did we all become such gossips?" Augusta exclaimed incredulously, "Who cares who Agnes or Tom or Alastor is shagging? I want to know what NEWTS you guys are taking!" At this they all laughed and the conversation became considerably less inane as they compared OWL results and gushed about upcoming NEWT classes. While they were all talented students, Minnie and Tom were the only students in the school to attempt seven NEWT classes. Augusta had utterly failed her Charms OWL, and had decided to take only five NEWTs to Eileen and Emmeline's six.

"I think it's going to be really fun having all four houses in our classes this year," Emmeline enthused, "No more Potions with just Gryffindors or Herbology with just Ravenclaws, we'll be all together!" Minnie smiled through her spectacles at Emmeline.

"Well I don't understand why more people aren't trying for a NEWT in Ancient Runes! I've checked with almost everyone and I can't find anyone else in the class!" Minnie sulked.

"Um… That class is boring as watching Ogg feed flobberworms," Augusta answered, "Though I can't pretend I'm not miffed that Emmeline and I seem to be two of the very few doing NEWT Muggle Studies. I swear, we're studying this old Muggle named Shakespeare, and if you guys read just a paragraph of his stuff you'd sign up for Muggle Studies so fast you'd think your robes were on fire." Augusta wiggled her eyebrows hopefully and took an overlarge bite of toast.

"Tom Riddle is doing a NEWT in Ancient Runes." Emmeline commented. Minnie grimaced.

"I thought you liked Tom?" Eileen asked.

"Haha, she doesn't like being in class with people who can beat her!" Augusta teased. Minnie glowered at her.

"It's not that!" she said, smacking Augusta playfully in the arm, "Tom's distracting. When you're not staring at how good-looking he is, you're stressing about how anyone can get a teacher to look your way with Tom in the room. He's unattainable. None of his friends are really that close to him, the teacher's all worship him and know nothing about him, and I'm tired of listening to girls dream away their adolescence lusting after Tom Riddle!" Minnie said harshly, giving Tom a nasty glance over her shoulder.

"Poor Minnie. He's in almost every one of your classes."Emmeline smiled sympathetically. "At least you've got us." She gave Minnie a one armed hug.

"By the way, Emmie," Minnie said slyly, "Tom Riddle's still trying to act like he's not staring at you. I think you might be starting to attract attention." Then Emmeline did turn around, and sure enough Tom was casting her a covert glance every few seconds, and a few too many girls of Agnes's caliber were starting to shoot her curious looks.

"I think you better go talk to him. This isn't good for business." Eileen stated darkly. Emmeline frowned nervously. Both Eileen and Emmeline liked to keep out of the rumor mills and keep the drama to a minimum. Eileen's unique way of suspecting something was going to open a show was to claim it was 'bad for business', and she was usually right.

"I can't walk over there, too many people are looking." Emmeline fussed nervously.

"Professor Slughorn's handing out schedules, we need to get over there anyway." Eileen pointed out, "Would it be any better if I walked with you?"

"No." Augusta and Minnie said together. "At this point breakfast is almost over, I'd actually have someone else pick up your schedules." Augusta suggested.

"They can't, Heads of Houses have to clear us to sign up for NEWTs, don't you remember?" Minnie advised. "Merlin, Augusta, Dumbledore came by like 20 minutes ago and you've already forgotten!" Augusta rolled her eyes at the rebuke.

"Ok! I've got it. At this point, Eileen walking over to Tom is just as suspicious as Emmeline going. We've all got Potions first thing, ask Slughorn for your schedules then and spin some hippogriff and bull story about waking up late. In the meantime, send Tom a note." Augusta suggested helpfully.

"Oh, and tell everyone you had just spoken to me and were letting him know when the next Prefect meeting is!" Minnie chimed in. Reluctantly Emmeline pulled parchment and a quill from her bag and wrote: Hi Tom,—

"The next Prefect meeting is this Thursday at eight in Dumbledore's classroom." Minnie intoned over her shoulder. Emmeline laughed.

"Are you telling me or Tom?" She queried.

"Both. It gives him an opportunity to say what he wants to without assuming anything. Besides, in the face of gossip, the truth is always best." Minnie advised wisely. Augusta and Eileen nodded their agreement. Emmeline took their advice and performed a handy little charm to fold the parchment into an airplane and Banished it towards Tom. All four girls resolutely turned their backs to the Slytherin table so they wouldn't be caught watching Tom's reaction as he read Emmeline's note. They ate in pregnant silence for a few minutes until a similar paper airplane landed gracefully in front of Emmeline. She could feel Agnes Avery watching and shivered. Unfolding the airplane, she read:

If you're going to make a habit of snogging Alastor Moody, please do it where it cannot be seen by impressionable First Year Slytherins. This is unacceptable behavior for a Slytherin Prefect. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to do a detention with me in the empty classroom next to Charms after dinner this evening. I picked up yours and Eileen's schedule and will give you them in Potions. No need to thank me.

Tom

All four girls finished reading at the same time and Augusta snorted and burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Eileen. They had to wait for Augusta to catch her breath before she answered.

"It's just—well—all of Agnes's crowd are probably imagining this sickeningly sweet flirtation going on, and he writes so abruptly!" She laughed again, "'I picked up your schedule for you. No need to thank me'" she mocked in a robotic voice. The other girls laughed. "I guess he was staring at you because he was checking to see if he needed to pick up your schedule for you."

"Yeah, Slughorn doesn't refuse him anything." Eileen added.

"It was thoughtful of him." Minnie commented. Emmeline nodded.

"It was." And with that, the girls took one last swig of pumpkin juice and Minnie, Eileen and Emmeline headed off to Potions while Augusta moved to the Ravenclaw table to enjoy her free period.

********************************

"Minnie, darling, what can I do to get you to smile at me?" A handsome tall boy with slick blonde hair accosted the girls outside the Potions dungeon. Minnie glared in annoyance at Rolf Lestrange's aryan features.

"Try not to melt your cauldron first class this year," she replied, condescendingly patting his cheek as she passed. "I hear those gold cauldrons are expensive to replace." Rolf stepped in front of her again.

"I would buy you all the gold cauldrons in the world if I wasn't sure you'd start handing them over to Muggleborns." Rolf replied, ignoring Minnie's snort of indignation. "But regardless, I have here two schedules belonging to a Miss Eileen Prince and the lovely Emmeline Vance." He took two pieces of parchment out of his bag with a flourish and handed each girl her schedule, winking suggestively at Emmeline. Eileen looked miffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm flattered, Rolf, but I prefer to conduct my affairs without the jealous vindications of Agnes Avery." Emmeline replied wryly. At this Rolf looked uncharacteristically glum and allowed them to pass. Eileen spared him a sympathetic glance.

"Figured out that looks aren't everything, Lestrange?" She leered at him over her shoulder. He didn't respond and merely retreated to the far end of the dungeon where Agnes and Tom were waiting for him.

Slughorn entered the classroom seconds later and cleared his throat for attention.

"I can always tell when a student will make it to NEWT," he gave Tom an admiring glance, "And I'm happy to see all of my favorite students back again." He absentmindedly twirled his mustache as he waved his wand at the blackboard. "I'm afraid I must start with a rather challenging potion, The Draught of Living Death. I'm only asking for an attempt, I don't expect any of you to complete it at this level. I simply seek to impress on you just how difficult completing a NEWT is. It is for serious students with serious ambitions only." He sat down at his desk and reached for a box of crystallized pineapple. Crunching merrily, he looked between Minnie and Tom. "For fun, let's try a little competition between our Prefect and Head Girl. Minnie, Tom, winner gets 50 points?" Minnie glowered, but nodded. Tom winked at her roguishly from across the room and assented as well. "Excellent! May the best House win!" Emmeline and Eileen stood back as Minnie raced towards the ingredients cupboard so fast she practically bowled over Hestia Jones. Emmeline laughed at her antics good-naturedly as she lit a fire underneath her cauldron and began assembling her ingredients. She sometimes felt that if her friends weren't so amazingly talented she'd be seen as a better student. She took her studies very seriously and worked hard for her good marks, but next to the genius Tom Riddle, the needle-sharp Minnie McGonagall, and Eileen's easy success she often got overlooked.

The whole class forgot to start while they watched Minnie and Tom. Minnie always claimed that the trick to a good potion was a quick start. Tom never talked about his potions ability. Still, it was obvious that both of them thought the best way to start was to prep the first few ingredients for the first five instructions, at which point the potion needed to simmer for 7 ½ minutes. Emmeline jumped to attention and headed to the ingredients cupboard herself a step ahead of the rest of the class. On her way back with her arms loaded with wormwood bark and sopophorous beans, she dropped a thick valerian root right next to the table where Tom, Agnes and Rolf were working. Before she could open her mouth to apologize, Tom stopped stirring his potion and lunged gracefully for the valerian root, catching it before it hit the ground.

"Thank you," Emmeline said distractedly, trying to shift her load so she could take the valerian root back from Tom. "I don't want to distract you from your potion, Minnie's a formidable opponent." She apologized sheepishly. Tom smiled and tucked it behind her ear, smoothing her hair back as he did so.

"No problem." He said nonchalantly. Emmeline felt pleasant goose bumps rise on her skin. Hurrying back to her cauldron, she dumped her pile of ingredients breathlessly while Eileen looked at her smugly.

"You're blushing. Did you race across the dungeon or is a certain Slytherin boy making your heart go pitter-patter?" She teased as she took her share of the potions ingredients. Emmeline turned even redder.

"Oh shut up," she muttered affectionately, "Let's get this potion going." Eileen was looking rather strangely across the room at Rolf Lestrange.

"Emm, look," She nodded her head in their direction pointedly, "Rolf isn't making a potion. He's helping Tom measure powdered asphodel." Squinting through the steam emitting from her cauldron, Emmeline could just see that Eileen was right, Rolf was devoting his entire potions class to helping Tom. Eileen didn't say another word about it, just turned to Minnie and asked,

"Do you want help preparing your ingredients? I fancy even a 50-point head start won't win Gryffindor the House Cup this year." Minnie huffed distractedly as she poured the juice from her sopophorous bean into her pleasantly bubbling potion. "Thank you, Eileen, I make my own potions," She answered. Eileen and Emmeline exchanged glances. Tom was well ahead of Minnie due to Rolf's assistance. Shrugging, Eileen turned to her own potion.

After an hour of intense potion making and no few helpful hints from Eileen, Emmeline was fanning herself on her stool while she idly stirred her potion clockwise every two minutes.

"THAT'S IT, AGNES! Don't you think it's just a tiny bit rude to hit on my best friend right in front of me?" Came Rolf's angry tenor from across the room. The entire class went quiet.

"Asking Tom for help isn't hitting on him, Rolf," Agnes complained loudly.

"It is when you lean over showing half the class your breasts and crooning at him like that!"Rolf's voice got higher and higher with his anger. "How did you expect me to react to this? Am I just supposed to let my girlfriend drool all over my best friend right under my nose?" Agnes drew her wand.

"You knew before we got together that I like to flirt. You can't be upset with me for being who I am!" Agnes shrieked, her beautiful golden curls bouncing angrily.

"There is a difference," Rolf snapped, "between a little flirting and acting like a complete whore."

And then the air exploded.

In a furious attempt to protect her precious potion, Minnie cast a split-second shield around their table, which was a lucky thing, because Tom's cauldron went flying, dumping over Hestia Jones at the next table over and tripping Septimus Weasley. Amidst all the yelling and coughing, Professor Slughorn was calling for order.

"Now, really! That wasn't necessary at all, save the lovesick arguments for outside class, please!" He cast a spell to ventilate the room and help the smoke clear. After a few confused minutes where everyone complained about their spilled potion and Professor Slughorn went around performing minor healing spells for various burns and boils, it became clear that something was seriously wrong.

Hestia Jones was lying on the ground snoring quietly. Her friend Amelia Bones was trying unsuccessfully to wake her. Slughorn didn't seem to think it was too big of a problem; he pointed his wand at Hestia absentmindedly and muttered,

"Ennervate." Hestia didn't stir. Slughorn turned to Tom's table, where Agnes was in tears.

"I didn't do it, Professor!" she cried. "Please don't give me detention, I don't know what happened!" Professor Slughorn looked at her with a puzzled frown.

"Of course I won't punish you, sometimes under great emotional turmoil you can do magic without realizing—"

"No!" Agnes interrupted, "I really didn't do it, my wand was blown out of my hand—it wouldn't have been if I had cast the spell!"

"Tom," came a different voice at the dungeon door. Professor Dumbledore stepped nimbly into the still smoggy room and pierced Tom with his icy blue stare. "Did you complete your potion?" Tom looked at Dumbledore defiantly and gave a slight nod. The whole class gasped collectively. Tom brewed the Draught of Living Death in his 6th Year! Emmeline felt herself blush for some reason.

"I had hoped that by the time such promising students reached their 6th year," Dumbledore rumbled quietly, "they would understand the responsibility that accompanies the ability to perform NEWT-level spells." Agnes gave a wail and broke into a fresh round of tears. Tom refused to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

Leaning down and examining Hestia, Dumbledore felt her pulse and performed a wordless spell.

"Call St. Mungo's and alert them they have a new patient. She's ingested an incorrectly brewed potion." As Slughorn hurried out of the room, Dumbledore turned back to Tom.

"My apologies, Sir." Tom spoke tightly. "It was an accident." Dumbledore gave him a long look. Then he nodded, conjured a stretcher out of thin air and magicked Hestia onto it.

"Class dismissed." He said as he left the room.


	4. And the game is old

**A/N: This chapter flirts with the line between rated T and rated M…. hope no one's offended **

Sitting at the Slytherin table for lunch, the girls mournfully watched the crowded Hufflepuff table, where Amelia Bones was being comforted by what looked like a half the very curious student body.

"What an awful way to start term!" Emmeline exclaimed. Minnie hadn't spoken since Potions, and had turned a strange shade of gray beneath her square spectacles. Augusta gave her a little hug.

"It's not your fault, Minnie." Eileen said quietly, "I'm sure he would've made the same mistakes even if he hadn't been competing with you." Augusta and Emmeline nodded their agreement.

"It's not that." Minnie said softly, pushing her uneaten lunch away with a little sigh. "I mean I do feel partially responsible for what happened to Hestia, but I... worry about myself sometimes." She hung her head shamefully. "As horrified as I am about Hestia getting hurt, I can't help but wonder what Tom did wrong. I'm not nearly as worried about Hestia as I am jealous of Tom and curious about how someone so horribly brilliant could make such a big mistake! What kind of person thinks that way?" Minnie put her head down on the table, and Emmeline was sure she was crying. She didn't know what to say.

"There's nothing wrong with you." Eileen stated, pointedly ignoring Minnie's collapse. "I was thinking about it too, and he must have chopped his valerian root too thin, if it dissolved too quickly it would have increased the strength of the anesthesia." Minnie sat up straight and stared, wide eyed behind her pencil-thin eyebrows.

"I disagree," Emmeline chimed in guiltily, "He added the powdered asphodel much too soon, I think he was trying to invent a short cut to reduce simmer time." Augusta laughed heartily at all of them. It felt good to laugh after such a stressful morning

"If it makes you feel any better Minnie," Augusta twirled her wand and sent a shower of sparks over the girls, "I hereby dedicate this academic discussion to finding a cure for whatever's wrong with Hestia Jones." Minnie cracked a small smile. "And I think we should keep notes for her in the classes she misses." Augusta suggested. Minnie and Eileen immediately launched into an intricate discussion about the composition of the Draught of Living Death, helped occasionally by Emmeline and Augusta.

The subject had been exhausted by free period, and Augusta was the only one not really working on the massive amounts of Defense homework they'd been assigned.

"Do you think Tom did it on purpose?" She asked curiously, absently twirling a lock of her curly auburn hair.

"WHAT?" Eileen and Emmeline said in unison, dropping their quills to look at Augusta incredulously. Augusta shrugged.

"Agnes said she didn't do it. Don't forget Hestia is the only Muggleborn to have made it into NEWT Potions. Tom's potion goes flying at the precise moment he finishes and lands right on the only Muggleborn in the room? Sounds a little fishy to me."

"Oh, because we should always believe what Agnes says…" said Eileen sarcastically. "She had her wand out and everything, it was definitely her fault. I agree with you it looks suspicious, but I think it was an honest mistake. How would he have controlled where his potion flew?"

"Good point. I guess we're all really lucky it only hit Hestia." Emmeline pointed out.

"Yeah, thanks for the Shield Charm Minnie, it saved more than your potion!" Eileen laughed, patting Minnie on the back.

"Hey, Emmeline, what do you think he's going to make you do for detention?" Minnie asked.

"I hope it's something kinky!" Augusta smirked.

"Maybe he'll ask you to clean his room without magic." Minnie guessed, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"In a french maid outfit!" Augusta added.

"Maybe he'll give her lines: I.. will.. not.. snog… anyone.. but .. Tom Riddle…" Eileen interposed.

All three girls dissolved into giggles as Emmeline's face turned scarlet.

"Actually, I was thinking of not going." All three girls stopped mid-giggle to stare at Emmeline.

"What?"

"It's detention, you have to go!"

"Why?" They all spoke up at once. Emmeline gave them a shy smile.

"Well, I don't think I did anything wrong. He didn't even see me kissing Alastor, how can he give me detention from a rumor some First Year fed him?" She went on more confidently, "And besides, what can he do? Explaining the situation to a teacher is going to make him look like an idiot. If he wants to talk to me, he'll have to find some other pretense than detention." Emmeline nodded smartly and went back to her Defense essay.

"I'm impressed." Minnie announced. "But I think he's going to be magnificently furious with you."

"I think he'll let it slide, the whole thing sounds more like a pretense to snog you than a detention." Eileen pointed out.

"Maybe you should walk around school in a french maid outfit, just in case you change your mind," Augusta wheedled. They laughed, packed up their books, and went off to class.

After dinner Emmeline nervously rushed out of the Great Hall and back down to the library. Reading was the only thing that would take her mind off of blowing off Tom tonight.

Eileen joined her after an unproductive half hour with a wistful smile and a Gobstones board, perching on the arm of Emmeline's chair.

"Is reading about Nightmare Potions taking your mind off of him?" She asked quietly. Emmeline put the book down and shook her head.

"I should've gone to his stupid detention. I bet he hates me now." Emmeline confessed dejectedly. Eileen's sharp pallid face smiled simply at her.

"Not a chance. You didn't see the way he looked at you in Potions. He could've been at the very end of making that potion and he would have stopped to pick up that silly valerian root for you." Eileen pushed Emmeline's hair out of her face and affectionately kissed her forehead.

"Eileen!" Emmeline gasped, "Do you think stopping to pick up the valerian root was what wrecked his potion?" Emmeline felt a sick, sinking sensation in her stomach. What if it was her fault Hestia was now in St. Mungo's?

"He knew what he was doing," Eileen consoled, "He knew how much time he'd taken talking to you, and I'm sure he was capable of fixing any problem it would've caused. No, he messed up because he was rushing. I didn't know that potion could be made that fast." Emmeline relaxed. Eileen was right. "Potion-making requires patience and an attention to detail Tom doesn't always portray." Emmeline giggled.

"Is it vain of me to think he messed up because of something I did?" Emmeline asked quietly. Eileen laughed and shook her head.

"Emmeline, if you weren't so persistently humble I don't think I could stand having a best friend as lovely as you." Emmeline blushed.

"I'll never be as gorgeous as Agnes." She offered. Eileen scoffed.

"When you have me to stand next to, you look four times as beautiful as Agnes ," She moved to sit down opposite Emmeline, her thin face grimacing. "There, do you feel guilty enough to forgive yourself?" Emmeline smiled sadly. In the way of best friends, they didn't talk about how homely Eileen really was. Her skin was waxy, her eyebrows bushy, and her hooked nose was her largest feature. While Emmeline, Augusta, and occasionally Minnie were all pursued by various boys at some point, no boy had ever shown the slightest interest in Eileen.

"Sometimes I'm jealous of your looks Eileen," Emmeline said softly, "No one will ever love you for them, so when someone falls in love with you, it will be for the wonderful person on the inside, not any fantasy concerning the outside." Eileen looked surprised. She hesitated, taking a breath as if to reveal something before letting it out in a sigh and shaking her head at the backhanded compliment.

"No more boys, my pretty friend. Let's play Gobstones." Emmeline smiled and they began to set up the board. Eileen was the Captain of the Gobstones Club. No one in the entire school could beat her, least of all Emmeline. None the less it was a fun game, and it did take Emmeline's mind off of Tom. Smiling as Eileen neatly jumped her last piece, Emmeline waved her wand and the board packed itself up.

"Do you think he's waiting for me in the Common Room?" Emmeline asked tentatively.

"No, silly, it's almost curfew. He's in bed." Eileen replied.

"I think I'll stay down here a little longer," Emmeline insisted. Eileen put her bag down and looked at Emmeline with too much understanding in her eyes.

"Alright. I won't wait up for you." She smiled and left the library.

Alone, Emmeline couldn't help feeling this game she was trying to play with Tom was a silly one. Alastor had been her only serious boyfriend, and their attraction to each other had been so gentle and obvious there had been very little courtship. They'd simply been close friends one day and official the next. She wasn't even sure if Tom was trying to court her. They'd only been back one day, who could tell? Besides, Tom meant trouble. Any relationship with Tom was bound to be bad for business.

Her head too full of Tom, she resolutely picked up her bag to go right as the librarian started giving her dirty looks. Smiling apologetically at the librarian, she walked out of the library and nervously headed for the Slytherin common room. It was later than she realized, and she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling she was being watched. Turning down a dark stone corridor, a shiver down her spine told her Tom was behind her.

"Come here, Emmeline." He commanded dangerously, glowering at her from the doorway of an empty classroom.

"Tom, I—" was all she had time to say before he held up a hand to silence her, his tall form slamming the door and casting a silencing charm on it.

"I waited for you." Tom said, angrily pacing back and forth, "I waited for hours. Where WERE YOU?" He yelled, his face contorting in fury. Instead of being scared, Emmeline was angry.

"What right have you to put me in detention?!" She yelled back, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "You didn't even see me kiss Alastor and last time I checked I AM ALLOWED to kiss whoever I please!" At the mention of Alastor Tom turned away angrily and the desks within five feet of him tipped over. Emmeline tripped over one of them and fell. That made her even angrier because it ruined her composure.

"_I am a Prefect!" _Tom hissed through his teeth, "And besides cavorting around the castle with that _boy, _you undermined MY AUTHORITY!" Emmeline couldn't believe what she was hearing.

" You know with all this trouble you went to to put me in detention, I'd almost think you were JEALOUS!" Tom stopped pacing and turned to face her, his black eyes blazing gloriously.

"_Jealous, _am I?" Tom spat, smiling crazily and taking a step closer to Emmeline. Staring up into his beautiful face, Emmeline was seized by a fit of recklessness.

"How long did you wait for me to show up, Tom?" She asked nonchalantly. "Hours, you said? Merlin! When I stand Alastor up he only waits twenty minutes."

Tom's fury broke over her like a wave of hot water as he violently pulled her to him and crushed his lips against hers. This was not one of Alastor's gentle, probing kisses. This kiss was hot and hungry, a frantic meeting of lips and teeth and tongue. She met it with a fury she didn't know she had, gripping Tom to her like she was drowning. His hands tangled in her hair and pulled her head to the side violently as he attacked her neck with his mouth. His hands moved in furious jerks, first in her hair, next on her waist and confidently lower, lighting a fire wherever they went. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like a racing horse, and she had trouble remembering to breathe. His arms around her were so strong and cold, and she could feel her body yield and bruise where his fingers dug in. Without thinking about it she let him take her weight and wrapped her legs around Tom's waist, keeping their lips connected. Frustrated, Tom's hand climbed under her shirt and raked up her back, flickering hesitantly over her bra strap. Emmeline stretched her arms over Tom's shoulders and pulled his shirt up to reveal the hard white planes of his chest. Tom put her down on the teacher's desk so she could lift his shirt over his head. The stark muscles of his bare chest and his own pounding heart crushed into hers, and desire washed away any remnants of anger. A small moan escaped her lips as his hand landed on her breast, gripping too hard. Not satisfied with this, Tom's hands began to unbutton Emmeline's blouse, at which point a small voice of reason deep in her head reminded her that this was too far, too soon. With a deep, shuddering sigh she softly stopped his hands. Realizing her intent, the hungry look in Tom's eyes faded with a snap and he took a sharp step back. The room, moments before a whirlwind of passion, seemed strangely cold and airless.

"Emmeline what are we doing?" Tom whispered, his face unreadable.

"We're kissing." She replied simply, reaching forward and pressing her lips to his briefly.

"You must forgive me," Tom said roughly, "I'm not used to this." Emmeline smiled. Tom kissed her again, and a spark of the desire that had burned so hot a moment before leaped between them.

A sharp gasp at the door made both of them jump guiltily and turn to see a poor lost little First Year girl with eyes as big as headlights as she identified them.

"DETENTION!" Tom yelled at the First Year.

Emmeline burst out laughing.

**A/N: Interested? Not interested? Find something out of canon? Let me know! Please review **


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